Art Class
by thesoundofsunshine
Summary: Kurt and Blaine have been separated for a year and a half, only to be reunited during Kurt's art class.


**I guess I should just tell you that this is another one of those 'what the hell did I just write' kind of stories. Also, ****I'm not sure how college at NYU / Tisch works. I'm just playing it by ear. But, Cozy's Salad N Burgers is real. Kurt ordered what I did when I went there! PS.**** Has anyone else heard Somewhere Only We Know. I've been listening to it non-stop since it's been leaked. Okay. I'm done flailing about over a song.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. Yupp. Way to bring me down.**

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><p>Kurt rubbed the stub of charcoal in between his fingers, trying to shade the face of the female model for his art class. He bit down on his lower lip for concentration, accurately capturing the way the light accented her eyes just so. He used his thumb to blend the charcoal in the iris he had drawn.<p>

"Lunch break!" Mr. Masterson, his art teacher called out, snapping Kurt from his artistic trance, "Meet back in the studio in an hour ready to sketch the full male body."

"Cozy's?" Jameson asked, as Kurt abandoned his work area, checking his mirror for charcoal that he suspected he'd smudged across his forehead. He was right and quickly snubbed it away.

"I hate these all day art classes," Kurt complained, even though he adored them. He had gone to Tisch for music, but took Art and Composition I as a freshman. He took the second Art and Composition class during his sophomore year, before being recommended for the longer classes during the second semester.

"No, you don't," Jameson laughed, reading Kurt's mind. They had been lumped together during an art project in which they had to mix two genres into one picture during their freshman year.

"You know me so well," Kurt said with a slight smile as they walked out of the building into the broad daylight.

"So, are you excited to draw the male form in all of its glory?" Jameson childishly asked, complete with a suggestive eyebrow waggle at Kurt, who flushed.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Jameson," Kurt said, shoving his friend a bit.

"Don't even front," Jameson said in a teenage reminiscent way, "You haven't been on a date, or had a one night stand in over six months."

"And, your point is..." Kurt drifted off, knowing exactly what his point was.

"You're dying to see some dick," Jameson cheekily said, complete with a bold smile.

"Jamie!" Kurt squeaked at his friend's antics as they arrived at their usual lunch spot; he was not done with this conversation.

"Hey James, Kurt," Mel said from behind the counter as the pair of boys slipped into their usual booth, "I'll be with you in a minute."

"And, you, Jameson, know perfectly well why I haven't done anything in six months," Kurt whispered across the table, leaning in for the full effect, "Well, if you're counting serious things, it's been like a year and a half."

"You broke up with your high school sweetheart, I know," Jameson rolled his eyes, pausing for a second before a lewd smile spread across his face, "But, it's time to mingle with the bigger fish in college."

"Drinks?" Mel asked, manning her order pad, looking at her usual Thursday lunch pair.

"Just water," Kurt said, with a smile, as Jameson was quick to agree. Mel nodded, walking off to get them water as the menus went untouched because they always ordered the same thing.

"Look, I broke up with Lucy, went to some party stag, hooked up with some girl the weekend after," Jameson said, as Kurt rolled his eyes at the womanizing ways of his friend, "It's all about moving on, getting as much as you can while you're young."

"I'm just not ready," Kurt meekly confessed, knowing that he-who-shall-not-be-named still held all of his heart. It was just the distance that tore them apart. He never fully got over it.

"Here's your water," Mel said, placing the two glasses of water down on the table, "Ready to order?"

"Mixed green salad with grilled chicken," Kurt politely ordered a healthy meal to keep the calories off, since he hardly had the time to fuss around the gym.

"Deluxe jumbo burger on a toasted bun," Jameson ordered, salivating at the prospects of his meal.

"You're going to die from clogged arteries by the time you're thirty," Kurt dramatically said, as Mel gathered the menus, leaving them to their conversation.

"I lived a wonderful life," Jameson said, before getting right back into their conversation, "I fucked enough girls to constitute as a good life."

"Remind me again, why are we friends?" Kurt joked, as Jameson sipped on his water.

"You wouldn't know what to do without me," Jameson cockily said, "Besides, it's about time that you move on from Blaine." – The name made Kurt wince – "Either move on or get back with him. Just quick moping."

"I'm not moping," Kurt mumbled, receiving a hard glare from across the table, "Anymore."

"Then, why no dates Kurtsie Wurtsie?" Jameson said, pulling out the embarrassing nickname and all, "You're hot enough to get some ass."

"I'm going to pretend that second sentence didn't just come out of your mouth," Kurt said, his face written over with mock shock, "And, I've only been asked out twice by people who aren't my type."

"And, what's your type?" Jameson asked, as Mel came to their table with two plates.

"Enjoy your meal!" Mel said, setting down the plates in front of their respective owners, "Just call me for the bill when you're ready."

"So, your type?" Jameson pressed, not letting Kurt get away this easily.

"I don't know," Kurt lied, knowing that his type was Blaine, just Blaine.

"You need to broaden your horizons," Jameson said, as Kurt munched on his salad, "I'm not asking you to fall in love and make gay babies with him. I'm just asking that you go on one crummy date."

Crummy date. That's what he called the date with Rachel. Kurt was hit with a wave of nostalgia from their high school days before college got in the way. The University of Michigan and NYU were a fair distance apart. It just got too hard to be so in love and so far apart.

"I'll try," Kurt moped into his salad, as they finished their meals in silence.

"Here's your separate bills," Mel said, flopping down the two pieces of paper, "Have fun with the rest of your class."

They thanked her, before leaving their individual bills and tip on the table.

"So, the male anatomy today?" Kurt quietly said, as they walked back out into the sunlight. Kurt gave a curious smirk causing Jameson to nudge him with his shoulder.

"Atta boy," Jameson said with a broad smile.

And, just like that, they minor argument was settled. In fact, Kurt was feeling better about the entire situation, and maybe a bit eager to see 'some dick' as Jameson so eloquently put it.

"Wanna head to class, or just walk around?" Jameson said, checking the watch on his wrist; they still had fifteen minutes till class started back up.

"Do you mind if we go back to the studio? I need to finish the morning model's eyes," Kurt said, as Jameson shook his head, opening the door to the studio building.

Now, Kurt wasn't clairvoyant or anything, but the second he walked into the building, he knew that something shocking was going to happen. It only intensified as they got near their studio door.

"Are you okay?" Jameson asked as Kurt stopped short, a laugh wafting from the classroom, which wasn't like Mr. Masterson's throaty chuckles.

"I'm fine," Kurt said, not sure if he was actually okay or not. It just sounded too much like... No, it couldn't be Blaine, he's at Michigan.

"I like your enthusiasm, Blaine," Mr. Masterson's deep voice said, as Kurt momentarily forgot how to breathe. Why is Blaine – his Blaine – talking to Mr. Masterson in the dingy studio?

"Come on," Jameson stage whispered, tugging on Kurt's arm, literally dragging him into the studio. Kurt was in the studio, but staring at the back wall, which was littered with art pieces that Mr. Masterson had tacked up.

"Hello Jameson, Kurt," Mr. Masterson greeted the two boys, "Here to finish your pieces from the morning?"

"Yeah," Jameson vaguely said, as Kurt could feel eyes – hazel eyes – being bored into the back of his head, "Well, actually, Kurtsie Wurtsie" – "SHUT UP, JAME!" – "has to finish his piece."

"I'll let you get to it," Mr. Masterson said, "I'll be back when class starts."

Mr. Masterson left, a heavy blanket of silence successfully draping itself through the entire room, suffocating Kurt in the process. It wasn't until Jameson smacked Kurt's arm that he slowly started taking in oxygen. But, during one of Kurt's less graceful moments, began sputtering and gasping for air.

"Is he okay?" Blaine's voice asked Jameson, who shrugged, as Kurt turned to face Blaine.

His mind was reeling with a million and one questions, which were just begging to spill out if he so much as opened his mouth. He settled for a short wave, which could be compared to a single flick of his wrist. Blaine's eyes crinkled from the sheer range of his smile.

_How can he be so happy right now? I'd like to know why he isn't in Michigan. Why is he here? Oh God, he's gorgeous. I'm still hopelessly in love with him. Why hasn't he called since we ended it? It feels like my heart's breaking all over again. Why is he here?_

"I'm just going to grab some coffee," Jameson said, quickly excusing himself from the scene, regardless of the plethora of comments he wanted to make to get them back together, or mortify Kurt.

"So, how's Tisch?" Blaine casually asked, as Kurt returned to his work place, the unfinished eyes staring back at him.

"Why are you here?" Kurt bluntly slipped, even though he had meant to answer the question.

"It's... complicated," Blaine released, moving a chair to sit opposite of Kurt's desk. Kurt was too busy to pay attention to Blaine's banging around the room because he needed to make the model's eyes sparkle.

"Start from the beginning, I hear that's popular," Kurt snidely said, not bringing himself to look at Blaine's expression.

"We broke up –"

"You broke us up," Kurt rudely interrupted with a sharp edge to his voice, which Blaine managed to overlook.

"– I got addicted to some nasty things to stop thinking about you," Blaine said, as Kurt looked up, his face full of concern.

"Like what?" Kurt softly asked, trying to keep his tone from sounding all too motherly.

"Mostly marijuana. I shot up heroine a few times. Then, I had my first acid trip, which was laced with something," Blaine bluntly said, drifting off because he was careful not to add 'I was _this_ close to death', "I was stupid. I failed out of Michigan."

Kurt was speechless, trying to wrap his head around Blaine doing drugs because that was so un-Blaine-esque. He kept his attention on the model's face, particularly her eyes, which were starting to look alive. Perhaps it was because he was starting to shade them from what he could remember of Blaine's lively eyes back at Dalton.

"Lyle, uh, Mr. Masterson, is my therapist's brother. He said that he could get me a job with NYU, so I could get a college education because my parent's disowned me," Blaine said, as Kurt looked up with yet another sympathetic glance, "I really don't need your sympathy. You asked, I'm just giving you the facts."

"I just don't understand why you never called. I would have helped you, you know that," Kurt said, his voice teetering on dangerously passionate.

"I ended it because of the distance. It hurt too much to be that far away from you. I ended up destroying myself because it hurt even more to not even have you in my life," Blaine confessed, as Kurt laid a charcoal stained hand on his, "I loved you so much that I didn't even know what to do with myself sometimes."

"I don't..." Kurt started, before his voice cracked, betraying him. He squeezed Blaine's hand, trying his best to shake the crack in his heart that was reopening. He took in a deep breath, swiftly changing the topic, "So, why are you _here_?"

"Lyle needed a male model for this class after the one he hired previously came down with some sort of stomach bug," Blaine explained, as Kurt tried to keep his eyes in his head, while trying to his hands as clam-free as possible.

"But, it's _nude_," Kurt stated, whispering the last word like it was taboo. He had long ridden of his virginity (to Blaine nevertheless), but he still wasn't wholly comfortable talking about it.

"I'm on the list of models for art classes, so I got chosen," Blaine said with a half-smile, as a few kids filtered back into the studio.

"No, you're not doing this," Kurt vainly protested, standing up from his desk, looking down at the morning model's soft face, with unmistakable Blaine eyes.

"Not doing what?" Blaine asked, his triangular brows knitted together in the middle.

"This," Kurt frantically said, as he wildly gestured to the studio around them.

"I have to it. It gives me a cheaper rate with classes and free board, which I need," Blaine gave in, as Mr. Masterson walked back into the room, leaving three minutes till class officially started back up.

"Mr. Masterson, I'd like to talk to you about something," Kurt said, approaching Mr. Masterson akin to his assertiveness with Mr. Schue from what seemed like eons ago.

"How can I help you, Kurt? Did you finally get her eyes right?" Mr. Masterson casually asked, shuffling papers on his makeshift desk in front of the room. Kurt leaned across the table to make this a private conversation.

"I can't let Blaine do this," Kurt said, as Mr. Masterson shot him a bewildered expression, "I can't let him be wrongly exposed like some kind of... _porn star_."

"I do believe that an agreement has been arranged with Blaine and the art department at NYU and Tisch," Mr. Masterson firmly said, as Blaine joined them over at the table.

"I just don't feel it's right for him to be so exposed in front of everyone like this," Kurt floundered, trying to figure out what his intentions were because, at the moment, he could hardly figure them out.

"This is a special Art and Composition course on the human form," Mr. Masterson said, giving Kurt a solid glance, "It's a recommended course, not needed for credit or graduation. You can easily drop it."

"I don't mind all of it. I just mind Blaine being there," Kurt lamely admitted, not allowing himself to linger on Blaine's almost hurt expression among the fleeting gratuitous look.

"Mr. Masterson," Jameson piped up as he walked into the room, "I do believe there is a rule in the student handbook about there being a model and student relationship. In Section 4, Part B, it states that all nude models must be of the anonymous sort."

Kurt was overwhelmed with love for Jameson in the moment. He could have kissed him. This moment instantly forgave every crude comment he'd ever made. It had taken all of his will power to not run across the room, tackling Jameson to the ground with the tightest hug ever. He would buy him a lifetime supply of the artery clogging supreme deluxe jumbo burgers from Cozy's for singlehandedly saving the day.

"Alright class, it seems that we're going another study of the human face," Mr. Masterson relinquished, as Kurt breathed a sigh of relief. He started walking back to his desk with Blaine by his side.

"If you have a minute after class, I'd like to catch up more with you," Kurt bashfully said, doing his best to hide the pink coloring in his cheeks.

"I'll buy us coffee at a café that I like," Blaine said with a timid smile, as Jameson sidled up to the desk next to Kurt's.

"By the way, I don't think I'll do you any justice," Kurt admitted, as Blaine coyly smiled before going to perch on the stool that Mr. Masterson had moved to the center of the room for him.

"I think you'll be seeing his dick within the next week," Jameson smugly whispered, as Kurt noticeably winced, "Regardless of his modeling stance."

"You disgust me," Kurt laughed, pulling out a clean piece of paper to sketch Blaine's face.

He rolled his pencil in his hand, wondering if it would be too risky to try this from memory. He was sure that he could do a decent job, considering how well he had remembered Blaine's eyes. Kurt decided that it wouldn't hurt to use Blaine as the model he was supposed to be; besides, it gave him a reason to stare at Blaine. When he looked up, he noticed Blaine's bedroom eyes staring back at him. Maybe Jameson was right about 'seeing his dick' within the next week.

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><p><strong>Well, it's another fic that I'm posting in the wee hours of the night, simply because I didn't think I'd be able to get in the same weird mindset when I woke up. I'd love to hear what you think of it.<strong>


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